


Year One

by melodicbella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 09:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18280076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodicbella/pseuds/melodicbella
Summary: // I'll be adding chapters as I write them, the book is going to be about 30 chapters long //Follow Chrysanthemum Harlem, youngest of the distinguished Harlem family, throughout her first year at the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry as she grapples with learning what it means to be a witch, disassociating with her family's legacy, and uncovering malicious secrets.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> // Hey! This is my first time posting on the website, obviously, so I hope everyone likes it! Feel free to comment any canonical or grammatical errors that you notice that I may have missed! //

Chapter One: The Alley

Chrysanthemum was truly astonished to find out that she could quite possibly cross paths with Harry Potter in her years at Hogwarts. Other than that, she was very excited.  
The drive to Diagon Alley was indeed brutal, with the lung-crushing silence and the stress-induced stomach ache, her brother shooting her reproachful glares, and her mother and father refusing to even glance at her. When the car finally arrived at The Leaky Cauldron, her mother muttered a goodbye, and Chryss slid out of the sleek vehicle. Their driver helped Chryss with her things, then he practically hurtled back into the car, slammed the door, and the car sped away. Chryss sighed. She walked into the cozy bar, and sat down at an old wooden table, her large yellow trunk propped up against the chair next to her.  
“Where are your parents, Miss Harlem?” The old barman asked.  
“They left already.” Chryss replied coldly. It would really surprise you how she could manage to make her voice low and intimidating when her outer disposition was so completely kind and fluffy. She dropped a galleon onto the wooden table, and turned to open her ivory tote bag. Out she pulled a sketchbook and an old, battered bluejay quill.   
“Can I have a butterbeer and some breakfast?” She added over her shoulder. The barman mumbled something under his breath and hurried over to take the galleon. He then scuttled away and disappeared behind a door. Chryss began sketching out a drawing of the chair next to her. By the time the barman returned with the frothing glass cup of butterbeer and bacon and fried eggs, she’d almost finished it. Chryss voiced her thanks and set to eating the belly-warming plate that was set out for her. When she was finished, she stood up and stretched out, ruffling her short blonde hair.   
She picked up her trunk and shoved her drawing things back into her tote bag. She then downed the last bit of butterbeer and walked over to the barman.  
“Could you open the entrance for me?” She asked him.  
“S-sure, Miss.” He said, and stumbled to the back door, it opened with a creak. They were faced with a brick alley that was empty save for some garbage bins. The old barman took out a dark stained stick of wood and tapped some of the bricks in a seemingly practiced pattern.   
They opened. The bricks receded into themselves and revealed a bustling street, with shop windows that were full of merchandise, street vendors calling out the wonderful names of “one-of-a-kind” products, and children and parents alike crowding in entrances and window displays. Chryss took a deep breath. She then pulled some prim parchment out of her tote bag and looked over it quickly.  
“Wand…” She murmured to herself. She walked down the crowded street purposefully, and after a couple of minutes of scanning prettily painted signs, she finally was met with the one that she’d been looking for. ‘Ollivander's’, it read, an old but nicely made wooden name plate that hung from rusty metal hinges above the door. She turned into the much less populated shop, and closed the creaking door behind her. The crowded atmosphere immediately shifted into a quiet, calm, slightly stuffy one of which there was only her, a young boy of about eight, and the old wandmaker, Ollivander, himself. The store itself was beautiful. The antique wooden shelves were packed tightly with slim cases of all colours, and the large matching desk in the middle housed multicoloured books, parchment, quills, and shattered wood and half-carved wand bases. Chryss took another deep breath.  
“Mister Ollivander, sir?” Her voice rang out through the muted room, and the old man’s glasses fell down the bridge of his nose as he jumped with fright. The little boy scurried away, the tiny bell ringing joyfully as it hit the door.  
“I am he. And you are here to find a wand, Miss…”  
“Harlem.” Chryss finished for him. “Chryss Harlem.”  
“Ah, yes. I remember giving your parents their wands. Your mother, six and a half inches, oak, unyielding. Your father, ten and three quarters inches, willow, slightly bendy.” He sighed. “Shameful wands, really. Not my best work, but they were just fine for what your parents needed.”  
Chryss nodded. “So, how does this-”  
“And your brother!” He cried, cutting her off. “Ten inches, oak, dragon heartstring, extremely springy! It’s ever such a shame that it had to be snapped.” A long sigh escaped his lips.  
“Yes, yes. I know. He bragged as much as possible.” Chryss murmured. “Now how do I get my wand?”   
“Oh, excited? You young ones usually are.” And with that, Ollivander slid out of his chair and grabbed his own wand from the table, and turned it in three circles before putting it back down. Soaring through the air at Chryss were lots of tape measures, which quickly took just about every measurement she had. After they fluttered away, she stood awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and fiddling with a string that had come loose from her old sweatshirt.  
“N- now what?” She said slowly.  
The old man had seemed to lose his train of thought, and he stood in the center of the room, his eyes flickering from shelf to shelf.  
“Ah!” Broke the silence, as he practically glided to a shelf to the left of her, stacked with wand cases of mostly warm colors. He pulled a long red case out of the shelf, causing two yellow boxes to fall out as well. He seemed not to notice. Chryss stood, one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed.   
“Nine inches!” His voice rang out through the room. “And redwood. Bendy, and with a hippogriff talon.” With a flourish, he placed the wand in her hand. It was reddish pink with white flowers painted on the bottom. She held it loosely.  
“And?” She murmured.  
“And?” Ollivander cried. “And? Give it a swish, why don’t you?”  
Chryss rolled her eyes. She flicked the wand in the direction of the desk. A green piece of parchment rose up into the air. Chryss squealed.  
“Is this my wand? Is this it?” She squeaked. Chryss could hardly believe it. Yes, her brother had described it to her when she was little, but she’d never imagined it to be this exciting!  
“Ah.” The old wandmaker said with a smile. “Not your wand.”  
Chryss looked at him, confused. “Wha-”  
And then the parchment caught fire. It fell to the ground, lighting the carpet.  
“Bloody hell!” Chryss shouted, and fell back onto the plush window seat.  
Ollivander sighed. “You shouldn’t curse like that.” He said, and quickly did a series of spells. His wand gushed water, putting out the fire, then hot air, then Chryss caught “reparo” under his breath, and everything was back to normal.  
“You distracted me!” Chryss cried, tearing up a bit. That could have been her wand.  
“I’m sorry you feel that way. That wand was not meant for you. Again, I’m dreadfully sorry that you didn’t get it on your first go.”  
And with that, he swished away, his pale robes flicking over the carpeted floor. He reached another shelf, a bit smaller and with all black cases.  
“Those look a bit too serious for me.” Chryss murmured, as she looked at the cobwebs that blanketed the top shelf.  
Ollivander laughed. “My dear, these are powerful wands. You’d be quite lucky to have one choose you.”  
Chryss tilted her head. “Oh, yeah. The wand chooses you. Got it.” She said, motioning with her hands. Ollivander raised one eyebrow, and slipped out a sleek black case.  
“Now, what day were you born on?” He spoke.  
Chryss raised an eyebrow. “The thirteenth.” She responded quietly.  
Ollivander smiled heartily. “Yes, I think this is the one.” Out came a light chocolate coloured wand with an engraved handle that reminded Chryss of flowing water. The end curved in the slightest bit, and the wood sported veins of dark chocolate, almost black brown. Chryss smiled with him.  
“This one is hawthorn wood, with a phoenix feather core. Eleven inches, with quite bendy flexibility.” He finished by holding out the rather beautiful wand and placing it lightly in her hands.   
“Wow.” She murmured.  
Ollivander laughed. It was a hoarse, but hearty laugh.  
“Yes, try this one, young lady.” He offered.  
Chryss took the wand, holding it lightly. She flicked it, and spoke an incantation that she’d heard her brother mention on one of his summer breaks.  
“Avis.” Was the spell that escaped her lips, and out of the beautiful wand came a sparrow, which flew around the room and landed on Chryss’ wand.  
Ollivander’s smile grew wider. “Congratulations, and good spellwork, my dear. You’re a natural.” He spoke softly, and patted her on the shoulder.   
Chryss squealed. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” She cried, holding the wand up to her amber eyes and examining every detail of it.   
Ollivander smiled and took the wand kindly from her. He slid it into the jet black wand case, and placed it on his desk. Typing on an old register, he looked up. “That’ll be six galleons and ten sickles.” He said.  
Chryss looked as if she’d been pulled out of a trance. “Oh. Yes.” She replied, and reached into her hoodie pocket, pulling out the correct amount of currency. She gave it to him, and he placed it in his old register. Ollivander then handed her the wand case.  
“Now remember, Chrysanthemum. This wand chose you.” And with that, he left her, swishing back into the corridors in the back of his shop. Chryss was left alone. She blinked. Placing the wand case gingerly in her ivory tote bag, she turned and opened the door into the busy street. Chryss bought the rest of her school materials rather quickly, and she arrived at her final spot.  
Magical Menagerie was the name of the shop, and when she walked in, she was bombarded by the sound of toads croaking and cats mewling almost immediately. Chryss already knew that she was getting a cat. She’d always wanted a cat, but her parents didn’t like animals. All they had was owls that Chryss wasn’t allowed near, as they had staff to care for them. Chryss approached the shelves lined with crates. They all had cats of different sizes and breeds, and Chryss browsed for a while, not really paying attention to the cats that prowled about the floor. After a while, though, she felt something brush her legs, and looked down to see a kitten that was all black except a white muzzle. It was like love at first sight. Chryss knelt down and picked the kitten up, and it mewled happily and purred deeply. Chryss grinned. “Bane.” She called it, and without hesitation, bought the kitten.  
Leaving the shop, wicker carrying case in hand, she returned to The Leaky Cauldron. Waving to the bartender, she made her way upstairs to the hotel room she was staying in for the night.


	2. The Express

The peaceful dream of sitting alone in a field of daisies was broken violently by the sharp ringing of an alarm clock.  
Chryss woke with a start. Running her fingers through blonde hair, she sat up and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and hoodie. She also added a cap, just in case the people at King’s Cross weren’t too into her hair that was always messy. She checked the clock. ‘8. The train leaves at 11.’ Chryss thought to herself. She pulled on mismatched socks and new Converse, and set to work packing her trunk. She packed all her school supplies and robes and clothes. In her tote bag, she packed art supplies, some books, and her wand.  
She checked the clock again. ‘8:30.’ She slung her tote bag over her shoulder and hoisted her trunk and cat case up in her far from muscled arms. She walked down the creaky stairs and called the bartender over. He picked up her trunk and brought it outside for her, depositing it in a taxi trunk. She thanked him with a soft smile, and slid into the back of the taxi with her tote bag in hand. The ride there was spent reading “Hogwarts, a History”. One and a half hours later, when they finally got to King’s Cross Station, she shoved the big book in her tote, and handed the driver some muggle currency. Bane had been mewling the entire ride, and when Chryss had gotten her things and was putting her trunk and bag on a cart, she opened the carrying case in order to give Bane a scratch on the chin. She’d learned he liked that. He purred, then layed down to go to sleep. Chryss giggled, then closed the carrying case door.  
“Platform 9 and three quarters.” She mumbled. Chryss started off, pushing the cart with her little might, and finally arrived at the place between platform 9 and 10. She grinned. When she was little, her brother had told her all about this. Putting on her game face, Chryss sprinted, cart ahead of her, into the wall between platforms 9 and 10. And there it was. On the other side was the crimson steam engine, the famed Hogwarts Express.  
Chryss let out a squeak of excitement. She grinned and took her trunk to the luggage car. She turned down the corridor inside the train and arrived in the car where the students sat. With her, she brought her tote and Bane in his wicker carrying case. She searched for an empty cabin, and after about three minutes, she found one.  
She sighed, and slid into the cabin, plopping down onto the pale red cushioned seat. She closed the door behind her, and opened Bane’s case. She set him beside her, and he curled up purring. Chryss smiled and stroked his midnight fur while pulling a book out of her tote. She spread out on the seat, not really thinking about other people coming into her cabin. She was early, and the train didn’t leave for -she checked her watch- thirty six minutes.  
Chryss sat reading for a while, calmly petting the purring Bane, listening to the bustle outside and the rumbling of the steam engine.  
Suddenly, the door opened. A girl with chestnut hair and steely silver eyes poked her head into the cabin.  
“Oh! Hi.” She said, smiling. Chryss looked over her book, and blinked. She wasn’t really used to being acknowledged.  
“H-hello?” She said, slowly.  
The girl raised an eyebrow. “I’m Penny. Mind if I sit?” She said, the smile still lighting her face and voice.  
Chryss nodded. “Yeah. I’m Chryss.” She replied.  
Penny walked into the cabin, closing the door and dropped onto the seat. “Your cat is really pretty.” She said, “Mind if I pet her?”  
Chryss smiled. This girl’s demeanor was really cheerful. “Him.” She said, grinning. “And yeah, sure.”  
“Sorry.” Penny said, her smile flickering but remaining in its place. She reached a hand over, and stroked Bane. Bane purred, stretching out on the cabin seat.  
With her, Penny only had a small brown leather purse.  
“Whatcha got in there?” Chryss asked.  
“Oh, you know. Just a book, playing cards, and some sweets. Things to keep me busy on the way there.” She said with a dismissive flick of her hand.  
Chryss nodded. “I’ve got drawing stuff. And Hogwarts: A History.”  
Penny nodded knowingly. “I’ve read that several times, too. Do you have muggle parents?”  
Chryss shook her head. “Nope. I’ve got prissy pureblood parents.”  
“Oh.” Said Penny. “I get the feeling you don’t like them?”  
“Not in the slightest. Their priorities are in all the wrong places.” Chryss replied with a huff.  
Penny nodded, and didn’t reply for a while. The only sound heard in the otherwise silent cabin was the soft purring of Bane and the quiet chug of the train as it bustled along through emerald prairies and rolling hills, through the wildlands of Scotland, where students had long realized that Hogwarts was found somewhere within.  
The quiet atmosphere was broken when the door to the cabin slid open and a stout old woman with orange and purple robes emerged from the hall, pushing a cart full of sweets and baked goods.  
“Hello, dears! Would you like to buy something off your dear old trolley witch?”  
Chryss looked up with a start. “Um, yeah. Sure.”  
Penny shook her head. “Not me, thanks though.”  
Chryss raised an eyebrow. “I… I’ll have one of everything.”  
The Trolley Witch grinned. “Do you have the money for that, love?”  
Chryss reached into her tote bag and let four gold coins thump onto the cart. “This enough?”  
“Just.” The Trolley Witch replied, placing one of each item on the table of the cabin. She then closed the door to their cabin and bustled on along down the train.  
Penny let out a giggle that she’d been holding in. “She looked hilarious!”  
Chryss’ laughs escaped her lips as well. “Agreed! I had no idea that anyone still dressed like that!”  
“Well, rumor is that she’s the oldest witch alive right now, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that was what fashion was like when she was our age.” Replied Penny.  
And with that, another bout of giggles escaped both girls. They laughed until their sides hurt, and then they spent the remainder of the ride to Hogwarts eating the sweets that Chryss bought and that Penny brought, and sharing details about each other, like their favorite color, their opinion on sports, and what house they thought they might get into.  
“I don’t want to be in Slytherin.” Said Chryss solemnly.  
“Why?”  
Chryss shrugged. “I just… My parents already have such low hopes for me, and I don’t want them to think that I’ve changed, and that I’m going to follow in their footsteps, you know?”  
Penny chuckled. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I could relate, but I do understand.”  
Chryss nodded.  
“I get it, that you don’t want anyone to assume anything about you based on your house, blood status, whatever.” Penny added.  
“Yeah. I think I’d like pretty much any house but Slytherin, to be honest.” Chryss said with a huff.  
Penny scratched her chin thoughtfully. “I think that I’d like to be in Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff. They’re so nice, right?”  
Chryss giggled. “Yeah, and their common room is right next to the kitchen.”  
Penny winked. “And they’re particularly good finders.” She said with an affected accent.  
Chryss pretended to pout. “How dare you make a mockery out of a perfectly good house!”  
“Oh, come on. Slytherin is already mocked enough for being evil, so let Hufflepuff have a turn!” Said Penny.  
“Nah, I say we make fun of Gryffindor. They’re always stuck on that high horse for being home to Harry Potter.” Chryss replied.  
Penny nodded. “I agree. They’re so brave, courageous, and whatnot. Right? Nope. I think they’re all just impulsive. Plain and simple. That’s why I’m going to be sorted into Gryffindor. Because I’m impulsive as heck.”  
Chryss shrugged. “I just want a house that treats everyone equally.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // By the way, Penny isn't my character and I added her as a request from my friend. Sorry if any of y'all were too attached to her because she's not coming back,,, //


	3. The School

The school was beautiful, to say the least. An old, dilapidated castle that had somehow been kept standing up was at one point completely repolished, redone, and refurbished. In front of all the students on the autumn night that was home to a prussian blue sky and the slightest tinge of shimmery, pearl-colored mist that gave off the littlest hint of mystery, sat a castle. The castle was perfect, with towers that reached the clouds, a rippling lake, and rolling terraces. It was built of light grey stone bricks, and ivory shingle roofs, which gave off the sense of a fairytale-esque castle. There were huge windows of crystal and stained glass, there were buildings off campus, like a tall stone owlery, rows of crystalline greenhouses, and large locker rooms for Quidditch.   
“Wow.” Said Chryss.  
“Wow is right.” Said Penny.  
“Everybody out!” The conductor’s voice called out of the intercom.  
“Well, that’s our queue.” Chryss said with a giggle.  
Penny nodded, and they both picked up their things, and shuffled out of the crowded train. They emerged into the twilight air, the cold sweeping across the warm black robes that everyone had changed into. The robes kept out the shivering wind.  
Surrounding them was onyx water, rippling with the silver and navy reflection of the sky. Around the dark wood pier were boats, with students filing in under the instructions of a huge, bulky man. Hagrid, he said his name was. Chryss heard her last name.   
“Well, I’ll see you later Penny. It was really nice to meet someone cool,” Chryss said with a smile. She stood on the edge of the pier, a bit afraid to get into the boat.  
“Need some help, love?” A cheery voice said from behind her. Chryss turned around with a jump to see a tall brunette girl, with bright blue eyes. Her hair was done in an elaborate braid and her robes were accented with a midtone crimson.  
Chryss was speechless, the girl was really pretty. “I- I- I..”  
The girl’s glossy lips parted into a pearly grin. “Give me your hand, love.”  
Chryss did as she was told, and the girl helped her into her boat.  
“I’m Elizabeth, and you are?”  
Chryss managed to choke out her name before the boat began to pull away from the pier.  
In her boat was a pair of boys who were having an intense argument that Chryss didn’t really wanna intrude on, and a girl who was covered with freckles and sported huge, unruly ginger hair. She grinned at Chryss.  
“Poppy Hale. Waz your name?” She spoke with a thick Scottish accent.  
“Chrysanthemum Harlem.” Chryss responded, shaking the girl’s hand.  
The girl turned away to gawk at the castle, and Chryss suppressed a giggle.  
When the boats finally stopped at a different pier, another upperclassman was there to help them out of their boats. This time it was a tall, slim boy with long black hair. He held out a pale hand and a comforting smile. Chryss took it, a bit more confident getting out of the boats than she was getting in. She and all of the other first years filed in the doorway, under the watchful stares of gargoyles that sat atop of huge stone columns on either side of the entryway to the school grounds.  
It was a relief when they finally entered the school. As the chill of the night was washed out of their bones by the flaming torches on the walls and fireplaces in huge stone inlaid hearths, the students walked and walked, led by the grumpy janitor, Argus Filch. Finally, they reached a landing in a big, wide corridor. The far wall had a huge doorway, double doors big enough for a giant. The janitor growled at all of the first years to wait where they were, and they stood there, silent, the quiet was almost a palpable blanket over the students, as if they were afraid to speak.  
They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, looking at each other. A few people stuck out to Chryss. One was a medium-height girl with slightly tanned skin and a slight build, who sported electric blue hair, which was long, running all the way down to her knees. Another was a small boy with jet black hair and eyes, who was petting a snowy white cat which sat sleepily in his arms. The last was a girl who looked very much like Elizabeth from the pier, only shorter, and she wore her hair shoulder-length.   
Finally, the doors opened with a loud creak. From the doors arose the gleeful drone of happy conversation, metal clinking, and cloaks rustling. And, through those doors came an elderly witch with a tall, dark green hat. She was wearing matching robes and silver-rimmed glasses. She walked purposefully, with a slightly limping gait. She wore her sandy grey hair in a tight bun, the hat just showing it. She stopped in front of the group of students.  
“Ahem. My name is Professor Mcgonagall, but you can call me Professor Mcgonagall.” She looked over them with serious eyes. “And, before I keep you any longer, welcome to Hogwarts!” She added, her thin lips curling into a smile. “Once you enter the grand hall, you will stand together at the front of the room and wait until your name is called. When your name is called, you will approach the sorting hat and sit, allowing it to choose your house. You all know the drill.”  
The witch moved to the side and gestured through the doors, allowing the students to cautiously walk through.  
The hall was beyond impressive. Huge windows of crystal within gaping, beautifully designed arches dominated the charcoal grey stone inlaid walls, and the ceiling wasn’t visible, being enchanted to show the sapphire night sky with the stars, like diamonds hung in the sky. There were pearly white candles floating above each table, and they glowed with a golden warmth. Chryss directed her attention to the front of the room, where the professors sat on a long table. In the center was a podium, behind which stood the famed headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.  
“Welcome back to returning students, and to our new arrivals, welcome to you too! We look forward to having you here. Feel free to explore the campus in your free time, except for the third floor, which is off limits, unless you plan to die a most painful death.” He said seriously.  
“Now, to the sorting ceremony!”  
The children clumped together at the front of the room, eager to be sorted into their houses.  
Professor Mcgonagall stepped up to the tall stool with an old, patched up hat in one hand and a list in the other. She cleared her throat loudly and adjusted her spectacles.   
The old witch held the long parchment out in front of her face.  
“First is… Arabella Broach! Please approach the sorting hat.”  
A small, thin girl with jet black hair walked up slowly and sat down on the wooden stool, her eyes darting around the room.  
Mcgonagall used her free hand to place the battered hat on the girl’s head. It rustled slightly, and then the fabric parted into a face shape, and the hat itself cleared its throat!  
It wobbled as it sang a cheerful tune about how its purpose in life was to sort children into their families for life, and it referenced quite a few metaphors throughout its song that made Chryss roll her eyes. The girl who had the hat on her head spent the entire song with black brows furrowed, looking up on the bewitched brown fabric on her head.  
“Now!” It said loudly after it had finished its song, “Broach, hmm? I think the best for you is…” It paused as Arabella whispered something indecipherable. “Well, if you say so! Slytherin!”   
The girl grinned happily and hopped down and sat down on the table next to the tall boy who had helped Chryss out of the boats at Hogwarts’ docks. He smiled gently at her and patted her on the head, her grinning all the time.  
This pattern went along for about twelve more people with Professor Mcgonagall calling out the names and the sorting hat gleefully referring them to their houses, the first years sitting down among their upperclassmen with cheers and slaps on the back from friends and family members. Finally, the professor called out Chryss’ name.  
“Chrysanthemum Harlem! Please approach the sorting hat.” Chryss took a deep breath and stepped out of the crowd, sitting down on the stool and looking up as the hat was placed on her head.  
The hat chuckled. “Har-lem! I remember your bro-ther!” It sang in its gravelly, patronizing voice.  
Chryss groaned and tightened her grip on the stool.  
“But!” it exclaimed as if it had had the most amazing idea, “You’re nothing like him, hm?”  
Chryss’ eyes widened a bit as she looked back up. “N- no! I’m not!” She replied quietly but happily.   
The hat laughed again. “Of course you’re not! That’s why it’s obvious you belong in… Hufflepuff!” Chryss blushed slightly and smiled. She hopped up and walked over to the table attired in yellow and black, basking in the excited cheers of her new house. She sat down in a place opened to her by a girl who sported short ginger hair with bleached tips who waved her over.  
“I’m Viola Jones! And you’re Chrysanthemum, yeah? That’s a cool name.” She spoke with an American accent and moved in a fluid and elegant way.   
Chryss smiled at her and sat down next to her. “Yeah, I guess. I go by Chryss, though.” She replied. You’re American? I didn’t know that Hogwarts took students from that far away.”  
Viola grinned. “I’m a transfer. I’m kind of a prodigy from the American school, so they decided to put me all the way over here for my studying abroad program! I originally went to Ilvermorny. I was in Pukwudgie!”  
Chryss nodded, impressed.  
“So, what was that about, with the sorting hat? It said that it remembered your brother? Even though I’m the age of a fourth year, it’s only my second year here.” She explained after her question.  
Chryss sighed. “My brother Wyatt is three years older than me. He would be a fourth year like you, but he got expelled last year.”  
Viola’s blonde eyebrows raised and her jaw dropped. “Expelled? From Hogwarts? But, I thought nobody got expelled from here! Dumbledore is supposed to be so tolerant and forgiving!”  
Chryss shook her head. “My lovely brother simply refused to do a single damn thing that anybody told him to do. He knew how to push all of the teachers’ buttons, including Dumbledore’s, until they just couldn’t take him anymore. He’s pretty much the single meanest person I know. The thing that he got expelled for, though… I don’t wanna talk about it. He got his wand snapped for it.”  
Viola listened to the story with wide eyed interest, along with the other people who sat closest to Chryss. A blonde boy spoke up. “Yeah, I remember him. You should be relieved that he’s not in our year, Vi.”  
She turned to him. “Really? I mean, Chryss, I’m not gonna ask you obviously since you said that you don’t want to talk about it, but now I really want to know what he did!”  
Chryss sighed. “I understand. You could probably ask pretty much anyone in your year, I’m sure they’d remember. He was in Slytherin, though. You’ll probably hear all the idiots there talking about how much they miss him.” She said the last two words mockingly, laughing at her own joke.  
Everyone around her laughed too, and Cryss smiled before asking; “Now, where the hell is all of the food? I’m starved!”  
The others laughed again. “The sorting ceremony is technically still happening. The food will be here soon!” One person replied, and Chryss sighed.


	4. The Common Room

The Head Boy turned out to be the blonde boy who was talking to Viola, while Viola turned out to be the Head Girl! The boy introduced himself as Jameson, and he led the first year Hufflepuff students to the Hufflepuff dorms. Jameson and Viola led everyone down a corridor where the smell of bread and cakes wafted from a… a still life painting?  
“This painting is the entrance to the Hogwarts kitchens! So, don’t be surprised if you see-” Jameson was interrupted by the painting swinging open from the top and an old house elf dressed in a grey linen shirt and pants climbing out with a tray that held a single mug. “- If you see a house elf comin’ out!” Viola finished for him, and gestured for the others to follow her down a cobblestone corridor. At the end of the corridor was a stack of dark wooden barrels. She told the first years to all watch, and she instructed to them that the way to enter the common room was to drum the beat to a certain song called “Helga Hufflepuff,” obviously about the house’s founder. She said that if they accidently tap the wrong note to move about four feet to the left, as a wrong note will drench intruders in vinegar. This made a few students giggle, but she assured them that she was completely serious, and that it’s simply to protect the common room from interlopers trying to get in when they weren’t actually in the house.  
She followed her own instructions and led the students through a doorway opened by the huge barrel which led upwards to another round doorway which she then opened.  
The doorway opened into the common room, which was a sunny, round room that was furnished with plush couches, loveseats, cedar wood tables and chairs, and bean bags. On windowsills and tables were innumerable house plants and succulents, all impeccably watered and well-kept. Brown, yellow, red and orange stained glass windows filtered the sunlight into warm beams that flooded the cedar wood interior.  
“This is the Hufflepuff common room. You are not permitted to bring any students not in the house into the common room, or to give them the password, understood?” Jameson looked around at all of the kids and they all nodded. “Now, the next level,” He gestured for them to follow him up the vintage metal spiral staircase which sat in the very center of the room.” Is the first years’ common room. The next level houses the second years, and so on and so on.” This room was similar to the first, with comfortable furnishings except for doors lining the walls of the cozy room which had small bronze plates above each of them that had a three digit number engraved.   
“Each door is one of your bedrooms, and each two bedrooms has one bathroom. Bedrooms on the left are boys’ bedrooms and bedrooms on the right are for the girls.”  
Viola was walking around and handing everyone large metal keys with metal plates attached by keychain which had numbers inscribed that matched the numbers above all of the doors.  
“These are the keys to your rooms. Each room holds four students, and the four of you together may choose whether to keep your door unlocked or to choose one of the four of you to keep the key for the rest of you.” Viola pulled out a list from one of the embroidered pockets in her robes. “Now, I will read you your roommates’ names, so when you hear your name and your room number, go in so that you can meet your roomates, ‘kay?”  
Viola steadily read out all twenty new names. When Chryss heard her name followed by ‘Room 707,’ she walked to the door marked with the number, clutching the big key that had been handed to her to her chest. Next to the door was already another kid, a lanky girl with long, wavy dirty blonde hair. Her eyes were hazel and her skin was lightly tanned. She was wearing the lighter grey version of the robes that were available to buy.  
“Hi, I’m Sage. What’s your name?” She introduced herself and held out her hand of long fingers for Chryss to shake.  
Chryss did as gestured, and replied carefully. “Chrysanthemum Harlem. It looks like we’re going to be roommates…”  
Sage smiled kindly and tilted her head just so. “Yeah, looks like it! Are you a morning person? Or a night owl? I wouldn’t like to be roommates with someone who’s really grumpy in the mornings. Are you grumpy in the mornings? Oh, I’m so excited for these dorms. I stay up pretty late reading. It’s nice to have our wands, because I can do the Lumos spell, but it seems like we can’t do that much magic outside of our classes-”  
Chryss cut her off gently. “-Hey. Sage.”  
Sage stopped abruptly, her mouth closing. “Sorry,” she apologised quietly. “Was I rambling? That happens to me sometimes.”  
Just as Sage said this, two more kids approached them. Chryss blinked in confusion for a moment. They were two tiny girls with bleach blonde hair cut to their shoulders. Their skin was porcelain with tiny smatterings of light brown freckles on their cheeks. Their eyes were reddish brown, and they wore too-large robes. They looked exactly alike! Chryss wondered if she was seeing double for a split second, and then realised that they were identical twins. She thought briefly how they looked like two of the same porcelain doll, and then she crossed her arms just as Sage held out her hand to shake.  
“Hi, I’m Sage Waterstone. What’re you guys’ names?” She spoke down to them, not figuratively or morally, but literally, as they were at least six inches shorter than her. Chryss hadn’t seen anyone her age that was actually shorter than herself. They were of course identical in height, and she would say that they were probably about 150 centimeters. They looked up at Sage with piercing wide eyes and one of them spoke, her accent foreign but difficult to place.  
“My name is Clover Hemingway, my sister’s name is Rain. She’s deaf, but she can read lips. I speak for her, okay?”  
Rain smiled gently, waving a little bit to Chryss. Chryss blushed and waved back. Clover held her hand out to Chryss as well, and shook.  
“And your name?”  
“Chrysanthemum. Chrysanthemum Harlem.”  
The twin who speaks, Clover, raised a blonde eyebrow. “Harlem is your family name? Are you in any way related to Renne Harlem?”  
Chryss sighed. “My mother,” she responded quietly.  
Clover nodded. “Our parents are both subordinates of your mother in the ministry. Interesting that fate brought us together in this way.”  
Chryss nodded back. “I suppose so.”  
Sage watched this interaction with raised eyebrows, and Rain observed with casual interest. She tapped Clover on the shoulder and gestured something to her, no doubt speaking to her in sign language.  
“Rain would like to suggest going inside, now.” Clover gestured to the rest of the room, all but emptied.  
Sage’s expression returned to happy interest. “Yeah, sounds good! Who has the key?”  
Chryss raised her hand, holding up the heavy metal piece. “By the way, I go by Chryss.”  
Rain, whose eyes were still trained on Chryss, nodded along with her sister.  
Sage smiled. “Ooh, Chryss is a cute nickname! I’ll remember it!”  
Chryss couldn’t help but smile back, and she stuck the big key into the keyhole in the door, and turned, the metal mechanism in the door clicking with a quiet but resonating noise. She pushed the door open, a bit surprised at how light it was. The room that it opened into was rather large, comprised of four average sized beds which were four-poster with curtains around them, four dressers, a table and chairs, and some cabinets.  
There were two small stained glass windows near the very top of the window which filtered early morning light.  
Clover yawned and sat down on one of the beds. Rain gestured to the trunks that surrounded the beds, all of the girls’ luggage which had been transported to their rooms. Chryss noticed how lightly she’d packed in comparison to her roommates; her three large trunks of clothes, essentials and drawing things, and the other girls’ six or more medium sized cases.  
Rain knelt in front of one of her forest green trunks and opened it, pulling out a pale pink lacy nightgown. She signed something to Clover, who did the same, pulling out a pale purple nightgown of a similar design.  
“We’re going to sleep. Our first class is tomorrow, today is the day that we are supposed to get settled. If you two aren’t going to go to sleep, please be quiet.” She spoke matter-of-factly and walked with Rain into the bathroom which was connected by a normal-shaped door.  
Chryss was left in the room with Sage, who was sorting her things into her dresser, quickly emptying her many trunks. She also stacked around seven novels on the dresser next to her table, along with a brush and a small metal wire tree, which she began to hang necklaces, bracelets and rings on.  
“So, you read a lot, don’t you?” Chryss asked as she sat down on her bed, reveling in the softness of the gold, yellow and black quilt that covered her bed. She ran her finger along a shiny gold embroidered sun.  
Sage looked up, seemingly being pulled out of her own little world.  
“Yep. I do. I brought a whole trunk full of books! That way I won’t have to wait for my family to mail them to me by owl. Do you think your parents will send you a lot of mail?”  
Chryss laughed in spite of herself. “No. I’m not exactly a large priority for my parents.”  
Sage did that thing again where she tilted her head.  
“Oh?”  
Chryss sighed and slipped off her bed, opening one of her trunks. She pulled out a large leather-bound book and a charcoal pencil and hopped back onto her bed. “Nah. I’ll tell you the story later. I guess you don’t have any older siblings if you haven’t heard of my family.”  
“How did you know that? Oh, you’ll tell me later. Right. I can’t wait to hear the story. And, I hope your family sends you some mail!” She said the last part with a warm smile and returned to her sorting.  
Chryss couldn’t help but smile back, and she opened to a blank page in her notebook. She bit her lip and began to sketch, allowing herself to drift as she hyper focused on the sound of the pencil scratching and just let her mind guide the pencil as it marked in pitch black.  
Chryss apparently zoned out, because she was brought back to the present by the soft feeling of someone sitting next to her on her bed.  
Chryss looked first at the drawing that had appeared, a drawing of… Rain? Of the twin who was deaf, the tiny porcelain doll that she’d be rooming with for the next year, and maybe more.  
She then looked to the side, where she saw that the person who’d sat next to her was -oh, fantastic,- sitting there next to her in her beautiful nightgown, Rain. Chryss began to cover up her accidental portrait, but she Rain had already seen it, and she was looking at Chryss with a quizzical expression. Chryss coughed and bit her lip hard.  
“I- uh- well, you see-” Chryss was a stuttering mess, she had no idea what to say to this girl.  
Rain snapped loudly, making her twin turn from the pillows that she’d been arranging.  
Clover walked over to the bed and tilted her head, looking at the drawing on Chryss’ lap. Rain signed to her.  
Clover cleared her throat. “Oh, um. Rain wants to know why you were drawing her,” She paused and looked at Rain, who was signing again. “And she’s complimenting your skill. She says that the drawing is amazing.”  
Cryss blushed dusty rose, the blush highlighting her freckles. “Oh, thank you!” Chryss said this facing Rain, hoping that what she’d said had gotten across.  
Rain was rather close, her hand almost touching Chryss’ thigh, and the back of her head about six inches away from Chryss’ face, as she was leaning over to get a closer look at the drawing in Chryss’ lap. She signed something else to Clover, and brushed her fingers across Chryss’ hand as she got up, causing static electricity to ripple up her arm.  
“Rain said it’s no big deal, and that she thought it was pretty, and that we’re going to sleep now.” She turned away and squeezed Rain’s hand before she laid down in her bed. Rain sat down in her bed and held Cryss’ gaze for a little while before she laid down as well, mirroring her sister.  
Sage had been watching curiously.  
“That was interesting.”  
Chryss sighed and shook her head, closing the sketchbook and tossing it onto her dresser. She knelt next to the largest trunk and dug through the contents until she came up with a flannel shirt and sweatpants. Chryss took them with her into the bathroom, and she opened the door to find that there was already someone else in it. Chryss was startled for a moment and let out a little cry before she remembered that each huge bathroom was shared by two of the four person rooms. After the immediate shock of seeing another person in the room, Chryss was able to recognise the dynamic figure before her. The girl had electric blue hair, the hair itself long and wavy, reaching her knees. The hair had been all braided into one thick braid down her back, no longer loose like it had been at the sorting ceremony.  
The girl eyed her with dark brown irises. “What?”  
Chryss looked down and blushed more than she’d already been blushing, and looked quickly at her feet. “Sorry! I just recognised you from before.”  
The girl smiled, but Chryss didn’t see that. “Really, how?” She asked. “I’m not especially recognisable. There aren’t really any… defining features that I have.”  
Chryss looked up slowly, and raised one eyebrow. “But- your, your hair- It’s- it’s blue.”  
The girl laughed, clutching her bright braid which she’d been tying up with a black ribbon to her chest. “I know, Chrysanthemum, I know. My hair is in fact, blue. It’s called hair dye, my friend.”  
Chryss’ expression widened into surprise.  
“How did you know my name?”  
The girl sighed. “Am I really the only person who was actually listening during the sorting ceremony?”  
Chryss bit her lip and shrugged. “I guess. What’s your name?”  
“Lena Alby. And you’re Chrysanthemum Harlem. Your brother is Wyatt Harlem, delinquent. And you’re determined to be nothing like him… or the rest of your family?”  
“I- how did you know all of that?”  
Lena laughed brightly. “I told you, I pay attention! That’s why nobody likes me, I hear all the gossip and secrets and I’m not afraid to tell anybody!” With that, she turned, electric blue braid whipping out behind her. She closed the door to her group bedroom behind her, and Chryss sighed, changing. What was with everyone and ending their conversations with some sort of fancy exit?  
Chryss changed out of her black robes, white dress shirt and black tie, carefully folding everything up. She changed into the clothes that she’d be wearing to sleep, and walked out of the bathroom. She slipped under the soft quilt, and closed her eyes against the dawn light.


End file.
